Sugarplums
by LadyHeatherlly
Summary: King Uther always invited a rich variety of noble guests to take part in the grand Yuletide festivities that were held in Camelot each December. This year, however, young Arthur Pendragon finds himself tempted by something far more delightful than expensive gifts and sumptuous feasts. Set just before Series 1.


**Title:** Sugarplums  
**Category:** Het (Canon AU)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Arthur/OC  
**Rating/Warnings:** M  
**Summary:** King Uther always invited a rich variety of noble guests to take part in the grand Yuletide festivities that were held in Camelot each December. This year, however, young Arthur Pendragon finds himself tempted by something far more delightful than expensive gifts and sumptuous feasts. Set just before Series 1.

**Author's Note:** Wish fulfillment for LadyGuinevere, as part of our 2012 Gift Exchange at The Heart of Camelot. _Happy Holidays!_

* * *

**Sugarplums**

The snow was falling heavily as the small patrol painstakingly navigated their horses down the wide road that led beyond the gates of Camelot. The men were silent and grim faced, each thinking wistfully about the comforts they were leaving behind: the roaring fires that chased the chill away, not to mention the delicious food and pleasurable company that were so abundant in the luxurious palace that was swiftly disappearing in a whirl of frigid, blinding whiteness.

Not a single one of them complained, however, for they were sworn to put duty above all else. The needs of the kingdom did not cease merely because it was cold outside, or one was tired, or even if it were the night for celebrations they looked forward to all year long. Their business was urgent, and even if that meant they were obligated to spend the rest of the holiday season searching for their quarry, they would not turn back until the man had been found.

The man in question was known as Lord Bartik, a dear old friend of the King's who had alarmed the entire court when he had not arrived with the other guests. It had been many years since he had visited Camelot, not since the Prince was just a little boy, and King Uther was beside himself at the thought that some misfortune might have befallen the one person he had longed to see for more years than he could count.

So the patrol rode steadily onward, shivering in their saddles, drooping from weariness as the hours passed and twilight faded into the blackness of a cold winter's night. They would have to seek shelter soon, Arthur knew, but where? They had ridden much too far to return to Camelot until morning, and they'd seen nothing but the close press of towering trees around them for more miles than he could count.

But just then, he spotted it, the tiniest flash of light in the distance. It called to him like a beacon, and with a shouted command that was barely audible above the whistling wind, he urged his men forward so they might investigate.

Closer he rode; the snow was coming down even more heavily now, causing him to squint and swear in frustration as he struggled to keep his eyes on the faintly flickering target. The cottage was only a few hundred yards away when its looming dark shape finally became visible, but as he detected a trace of wood smoke on the frigid air, Arthur breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Approach with caution," he instructed his men by instinct as they dismounted, though it really didn't matter. Whether friend or foe awaited them inside, they had no other choice but to seek the only shelter they could hope to find in what was swiftly turning into a blizzard around them.

Arthur took one look at his weary, shivering patrol, then raised a gloved fist and knocked firmly on the wooden door.

Whatever he'd been expecting as it slowly creaked open, Arthur certainly hadn't been prepared to lay eyes on one of the loveliest girls he'd ever seen. She stared up at him with large brown eyes, so captivating that a few endless moments passed before he was able to tear his gaze away enough to take in the rest of her face - a small, pert nose that was lightly dusted with freckles, soft, pink lips, framed on either side by a luscious cascade of dark red curls.

She seemed as taken aback as he was at first, before she let her eyes fall to the golden dragon that was emblazoned on his cloak and broke into a huge smile.

"Father told me you would find us," she said simply, taking a step backward as she opened the door wider to allow the men to step inside. "Quietly, if you please. He's already asleep, and I'd rather he not be disturbed. We've had a rough journey."

Arthur stared at her, still a little dazed, as she crossed the room and carefully set another log on the fire. "Are you...?" he started a little awkwardly, taking note of her fine, deep green velvet gown that couldn't have possibly belonged to a commoner he might have expected to find living in a humble cottage in the middle of the wilderness. "You must be... but how...?"

"I am Lady Alina," she said with a smile, as she graciously helped him remove his cloak and hung it over a nearby chair to dry. "My father is Lord Bartik, dear friend to the King. We were traveling to Camelot... well, you already know all about that, I'm sure. It's been more than 15 years since my father has made the journey, but stubborn fool that he is, he wouldn't allow the King to send us an escort. Said he could still find his way to Camelot with his eyes closed, thank you very much."

Arthur smiled as she gave a little laugh. "So you...?"

"We found ourselves hopelessly lost, quite naturally. It's a good thing we happened to stumble across this vacant cottage earlier this afternoon - I really wasn't looking forward to spending my holiday freezing to death in the snow."

"But didn't you bring any guards?" one of the knights interjected politely.

Alina nodded. "We did... well, just the two. Father calls them his very best. Says each of them are worth 10 well armed men."

"Where are they now?" Arthur asked her curiously.

She ducked her head and blushed, suddenly embarrassed. "Ulric cut himself with his own sword and had to remain behind in the first village we passed through in order to receive treatment from the healer there. And Godwin... well, let's just say that he was so distraught about his companion that he refused to leave his side. Refused to leave the temptation of good, strong ale if you ask me, but that's no matter. We've been on our own for most of the journey."

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again, struggling for a response that would not cause offense. The man his father had described had been a formidable warrior in his time - what had happened to make him so incompetent?

Alina seemed to sense the direction of his thoughts, as a shadow crossed her face. "There was a skirmish four years ago," she explained quietly. "Father... well, he took a brutal blow to the head. He hasn't been quite the same since. He's still himself in many ways, but the common sense he once had... his keen judgment..." she trailed off helplessly.

"Say no more," Arthur told her gently. "I understand."

He didn't, really, but his reassurance seemed to be enough for Lady Alina. Any trace of melancholy disappeared from her features, chased away by a bright, cheerful smile.

"You must all be hungry," she said, giving Arthur a measuring look before she glanced at his three companions. "I'm afraid I don't have much to offer, but we were bringing along a few treats to present to the King. Please," she paused to gesture at a small collection of cheerfully decorated containers that sat on top of the ancient looking wooden table that was propped up against one wall. "Help yourselves."

Some time later, after the knights had made a surprisingly adequate feast out of mincemeat pies, dried fruits, and an array of hard cheeses, they bedded down on the floor beside the fire and quickly fell asleep. Only Arthur and Alina remained awake, both lingering over the last morsels of the makeshift meal as if reluctant to part company.

Alina fidgeted and grew restless as they fell into silence, then finally gave a huge sigh and rose to her feet. "Come with me," she said a little hesitantly, as she rose to her feet.

It never occurred to Arthur that he was a prince, and as such, she shouldn't be giving him commands. He simply followed her, curious and a little excited when his eyes strayed to the gentle sway of her hips as she crossed the room and pushed open a small door.

Like most simple cottages, this one was comprised of a main room, a small bedchamber, and a tiny storage room. It was the last of these that enclosed them as Alina shut the door behind him with a barely audible click. There wasn't space to walk more than a few paces from one side to the other, but as it was located right behind the fireplace, it was warm and surprisingly cozy. A lone candle flickered atop a wooden crate in the far corner, and as Arthur looked down and took note of the pile of finally brocaded blankets that lay on the floor, his heart beat a little faster.

This must be where she intended to sleep. But why had she brought him with her?

"Sit down," she said quietly.

Arthur sank down onto the makeshift pallet, unable to tear his eyes away from the appealing sight of her softly rounded backside as she bent over and retrieved something from what must have been her satchel.

Folding her legs gracefully to the side, she joined him on the floor, taking a moment to adjust her skirt before she held out the small canister in her hands. "Open it," she whispered, as she held it out to him.

Alina studied him with liquid dark eyes, heavy lidded with anticipation as he pried the lid off the container and peered inside. "What is this?" he muttered, half to her, and half to himself. "Sugarplums?"

"They're my favorite. I always eat them just at midnight on the eve of Yule," she looked down shyly, before she took a deep breath and continued. "I... I know that you had to leave the celebrations behind to find us. And I know it isn't much, but I at least wanted to offer you this in gratitude, Prince Arthur. Perhaps it seems small, but it's something that has always meant a great deal to me."

Deeply moved, Arthur couldn't think of a proper response. Instead, he simply watched, entranced, as she took a sugarplum between her fingers and held it up to his lips. It was far more intimate than anything he'd ever experienced, allowing her to feed him there in the semi darkness, with only the sound of the breath catching low in her throat as his mouth brushed against her fingertips to break the silence. It was all magnified, a nameless tension that built between them as Arthur swallowed the sweet fruit with a soft, "mmmm..."

The moment he tried to return the favor, Arthur knew that he was lost. Her lips closed around his fingers as she accepted the treat, her quiet murmur of pleasure vibrating against his sensitive skin and sending a jolt of electricity through his body that was so overwhelming he gasped aloud.

And then he was kissing her, tasting her, devouring her mouth with his lips and tongue. The taste of fruit and honey was a sweet pleasure, but far sweeter was the flavor that was her and her alone, intoxicating him as he pulled her into his lap and buried his hands in her thick red curls. She gripped his shoulders tightly, pressing herself closer, moaning a wordless encouragement as he deepened the kiss, his hands moving down to fumble clumsily at the laces of her bodice.

_This is madness_, echoed some faint voice in the back of Arthur's mind. _I should be chivalrous... I shouldn't..._

He expected her to cry out in protest as the folds of her gown fell aside and he reached out to cup a bare breast, his heartbeat quickening as his thumb brushed across a hard nipple. Instead, she shuddered and moaned, throwing her head back as his lips moved hungrily across her throat, trailing up to nibble at a sensitive earlobe, before descending upon her bare shoulder.

After that, it was all instinct, for in truth, Arthur had never experienced the pleasure of anything more than a few tentative kisses from a servant girl he had once fancied back in Camelot. Butterflies danced in his stomach as he dipped his head to take her nipple in his mouth, but any nervousness he felt was quickly suppressed by growing excitement. None of it mattered here in this distant cottage, all those lessons on chivalry and proper conduct. The world beyond this strange, beautiful girl simply ceased to exist, leaving him overwhelmed by a hot, pressing desire that knew no logic, only passion, the need to satiate a craving that was stronger than any Arthur had ever known.

Alina felt it too. Arthur could see it in her eyes as he urged her down onto the blankets and eased the dress from her body with trembling fingers, taking a moment to stare at the gentle curves of her naked body in a hazy sort of reverence, before rising to his feet to quickly strip away his own tunic and trousers. And then he was kneeling between her bare thighs, so painfully hard that he feared he might explode before he even touched her again.

And yet somehow, he managed to maintain control, delaying his own pleasure as he started at her lips and worked his way down, groaning low in his throat in response to her breathless sighs and moans of encouragement. Her hands fisted in his hair as he traced a delicate circle around her navel with his tongue, then moved lower, anxious to explore exactly what was that lay hidden beneath the soft auburn curls at the juncture between her thighs.

They fell apart willingly at the slightest nudge of his hand, and then it was impossible to say whether the pleasure that followed was more intense for him or for her. Arthur quickly learned the right rhythm, carefully observing every movement of her body, each cry that emerged from her lips, wordless instructions that informed him exactly how and where she liked to be touched. Her taste was exquisite, intoxicating, nearly driving him mad with pure, aching need, before at long last, she arched her back with a wild cry and fell limp and panting against the blankets.

Arthur couldn't wait any longer. Rising up between her trembling thighs, he paused just long enough to allow her to voice a word of protest if she needed to. Alina seemed to understand; she nodded with a shaky smile and shifted her hips, tilting them up in silent invitation.

That was all he needed. With a shuddering groan, he entered her slowly, carefully, just in case... but there was only pleasure in the soft moan that vibrated against his lips as she kissed him hungrily and immediately began to move in a slow, sensuous rhythm in perfect time with his first, tentative thrusts. It didn't take long... how could it? Arthur had never known what it felt like to be inside a woman, the primal, overwhelming need that took control of his senses as the sweet, liquid heat closed round him and begged for one thing and one thing only... _release_.

He found it just as she whispered his name, his hoarse cry muffled as he buried his face against the soft skin of her neck and felt his body spasm in wave after wave of uncontrollable bliss. When his climax finally faded into a sort of warm, lazy contentment, he collapsed beside her, panting heavily as she gently stroked the damp hair away from his forehead.

They must have fallen asleep right afterward, for the next thing he knew, he was taking her again, just as the first hint of sunlight began to creep through the tiny round window in their humble, private sanctuary. Their joining was slower this time, almost lazy, as they sought to prolong their final moments together before they would be obligated to return to the real world that lay just outside... back to reality, and forward upon the paths that would lead to their separate destinies.

But no matter how many years had passed since that one stolen night, long after the inexperience of youth had faded away and Arthur had become a man, a king, and then a devoted husband, he was never able to taste another sugarplum without thinking of Alina.


End file.
